Vendetta
by titmouse
Summary: With a flower left battered and wilted in a London alleyway the golden trio and their family will discover that not every agrees with the title hero and the past has a nasty way of rearing its ugly head.


Scorpious collapsed into a small metal chair perched at the head of the bed. Strange muggle machines whirred and beeped around him. A shrilling metal shriek echoed against the pale green walls as he scraped the legs of his chair closer towards her. How could this happen? Scorpious slid his hand beneath the pale, lifeless hand resting against the starchy hospital sheets. His thumbs ran across grazes of her knuckles. Despite their efforts dark brown remnants of blood remained clogged beneath her finger nails. Taking care to avoid the peg on these muggles had put on her finger Scorpious grasped her hand. Oh Rosie. Who?

Al. Suddenly Scorpious' best mates face flashed across his mind. What had he been thinking! Here lay Rose Weasley daughter of two of the most famous magic folk of the century, enough family members to fill the entire Quidditch league let alone a team and he hadn't contacted any of them. Their daughter, cousin, niece, granddaughter lay here and he selfishly had forgotten there were others who cared in this world. He had to tell Al. She was his cousin and best friend. He had to get her to St. Mungos. Admittedly the muggles had managed to keep her alive, he glanced at the way they had sewn her face together, but she was a witch, they had magic, surely it could revive her, reduce her pain, reduce the scars. He reached down towards his briefcase to grab his wand, send a memo to Al, St Mungos, only to grasp empty air. Fuck. He must have dropped it when he landed in the alley way behind St. Margrets. How would he contact them now? Let alone the Ministry to say he was late… he glanced at the clock adorning the wall above Rose's head. Fuck he was beyond late now. Anyway what did it matter? He cursed himself for thinking of something so trivial as his job_. Just go and fetch your wand._ A small voice whispered in his head. A simple solution, so obvious yet his body refused to obey.

**_I can't leave her_****. **_But it's the right thing to do. __** But I can't leave her. **__She needs to go to St. Mungos, her family need to know. __**But I can't leave her. She's my friend, and she's alone.**__ She's been alone for a day, two minutes won't… __**I can't leave her….She wouldn't leave me.**__ It's what… __**I can't.**_ Scorpious berated himself. Despite his conscious, his stupidly logical conscience, he couldn't leave the girl he hadn't been close to in years.

….

Fog: dense, oppressive, smothering. A heavy pressure holding her down, blurring her thoughts. She couldn't move. It wouldn't clear. Claustrophobia inhibited her she felt her heart quickening lungs hyperventilate as she tossed her self around furiously against the smoke wall encompassing her mind. She threw herself at it again and again. This mist was supposed to be comforting; in the back of her conscious she somehow knew she was supposed to relax. Slowly let it fade. But she was Rose, Rose Weasley and she needed to get out.

…

It was a twitch. Her pinkie finger. It spasmed against his palm. Scorpious jolted into awareness. He ran his eyes over her face, her arms, every exposed region of her body. Anything. Give him another sign.

There.

Her lip. He was sure it had turned up at the middle there. He stroked her knuckles more feverently.

"Rosie."

"Rosie if you can hear me…."

"Rose, please open your eyes."

He raised the fingers of his left hand and gently drew them across her brow.

"Rosie?"

There her eyebrow moved as her touched it.

"Rosie I am here when you are ready. No hurry." But there was. By Merlin there was.

Suddenly and yet all at once it was over. Here eyelids fluttered open. Long brown lashes encircling crystal blue iris'. A fog seemed to melt over them and disappear before his eyes.

Sight focusing Rose gazed at him.

"Scorpious?" Confusion ravaged her face.

"Where …" Her eyes flickered from his face across the machines surrounding her, down to the sheets tucked tightly around her form. "What… where…what am I…." Fear flooded her face, her eyes swished around the room unable to stay put as confusion washed over her. She ripped her hand from Scorpious' and slapped it across her open mouth. She glanced at the monitor pegged to her forefinger. And lifted her eyes to meet Scorpious'; "Why am I in a muggle hospital?"

Pain swept across Scorpious' features. He opened his mouth to find the right words.

"I don't Rose, It was in the paper, they must have found you, I only recognised, Rose…"

His jumbled words faded away as Rose's eyes zeroed in on a still image glaring at her from the discarded paper at the foot of her bed. So much blood. Her stomached dropped, memories launched themselves into the forefront of her mind, men, fists, wands, pain, oh so much pain. Screams, a woman screaming, her. Rose gulped back vomit rising in her throat as her body shuddered with the torrent over whelming her. There was only one escape, she let her inner healer overtake. Methodically she worked over her body in her mind from top to bottom identifying each centre of pain. The crushing headache, the jaw, the cracking of ribs as she breathed, she moved down to her thighs…

"Scorpious." She cut through babbled explanation he was attempting to give and his eyes attentively focused upon her.

"Scorpious," the words slowly fell from her lips like the last drops for the tip of a potion flask. "I need you to take me to St. Mungos. Now."

His lips slowly began to shape his response.

"Scorp, I can't feel my legs."


End file.
